Waiting
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: Logan has finally found a partner who doesn’t slow him down, but instead distracts him in an entirely new way. But what happens when this new life is threatened? And just how long will he wait to have it back again? Slash, don't like, don't read
1. The New Partner

**Title: **Waiting

**Author: **IndigoNight

**Summary: **Logan has finally found a partner who doesn't slow him down, but instead distracts him in an entirely new way. But what happens when this new life is threatened? And just how long will he wait to have it back again?

**Feedback: **Yes please, yay reviews!

**Pairing: **Logan/Steve Rogers

**Disclaimer: **I do not own X-Men or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.

**Spoilers: **Not really…

**Rating: **PG-13 for mild swearing and somewhat graphic sex

**Warnings: **Slash, if you don't like, don't read.

**Author's Note: **So yeah, just having fun. Please review. Any and all flames will be used to roast marshmallows and otherwise completely ignored. Thank you.

**Enjoy!**

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Another "cheery" day, fun. Another "special" mission, yippee. Another "partner" to slow him down, oh boy. With so much excitement to look forward to, sometimes Logan wondered how he could stand it.

He sat in the convoy, waiting for the sergeant to return with his new "partner". It was cold, wet, and raining, his favorite.

Finally he could see them, approaching through the drizzle. Logan immediately began sizing up the new guy. He was tall, about six foot two, well built, with plenty of muscle, and dressed in star-spangled spandex, not a typical World War II outfit.

"Logan, this is Steve Rogers," the sergeant informed him.

"Ah," Logan said dryly, "The infamous Captain America."

"Welcome to the team, Logan," Rogers said boisterously, extending his hand.

"Great," Logan replied, completely ignoring the hand, "So, what exactly is this mission about?" he asked, his voice the very essence of boredom. He'd joined the army in hopes of some excitement, but he'd found that it got old real fast.

"Rescue and release," the sergeant explained, "Rogers will fill you in on the details."

"Joy," was Logan's, ever sarcastic, response. The sergeant saluted them smartly and marched off.

Climbing into the convoy they set off as Rogers explained the details of their mission to Logan, basically they were to break into a camp, bust out all the prisoners and take them to a refugee camp, big surprise. Logan was so glad that they liked to mix it up once in a while.

After that they sat in silence as the convoy carried them closer to the camp before they were on their own. Logan sat relaxed back in his seat, absently shuffling his worn deck of cards, as he obtrusively continued to observe Rogers. He remembered his conversation with the sergeant the night before when he'd been told of the assignment.

_"You're new partner will be arriving right before you set off," _the sergeant had told him.

_"Why do you continually insist on making me take someone along with me?" _Logan had demanded, _"You know I can do it on my own, others just slow me down. They always end up getting hurt or something, and then I have to go back and save their sorry asses. I think more men in our army owe me their lives than refugees do." _

_"I think you'll find this one to be a little different from the partners you're used to,"_ the sergeant had told him, with a wink, _"He has some rather unusual talents, not unlike your own."_ To which Logan had of course scoffed in doubt, before going back to his tent to do… something manly and soldier-ish.

"You don't like me much, do you?" Rogers had apparently caught him watching.

"It's nothing personal, bub," Logan told him off handedly, "I'm just not much of a team player."

"How about this isn't a team then," Rogers said, his voice and manner spoke of nothing but friendliness, "More like a partnership."

But before Logan could reply the convoy jolted to a stop and the fun began.

Although the clouds and the rain made it dark, so that it was harder for the enemy to see, the mud definitely didn't make the job any more pleasurable. As they approached the camp they assessed the situation. Luckily, this camp was far out in the middle of now where, so the guards were few, and not on high alert, so it was fairly easy to scale the wall without being spotted.

Once inside they crouched in the shadows awaiting the first hapless guards to come around the corner. Their luck held when two came around together. Logan and Rogers quickly dispatched one each, and donning their uniforms, keys and gear. Then the two split up, running quickly from one holding facility to another.

At each they revealed their identities to the frightened prisoners and quickly began leading them in small groups through the shadows to the small back door, where, once out they told them to run through the stand of trees to the east where more convoys waiting to carry them to safety.

Just as they were herding the last group toward to their escape a wandering guard happened around the corner.

"Hey!" the guard shouted, running after them.

"Shit," Logan muttered, "Get them out of here," he hissed to Rogers before turning back to take care of the guard.

Barely had Logan taken care of the first guard, when two dozen more, apparently having heard the first's shouts, came rushing around the corner, guns at the ready.

With an internal groan, Logan started off. At first he stuck to his military issued gun, but as more and more guards appeared, he gave up on the idea of normalcy. Dropping the gun, he spun into action. Extending his retractable adimentium claws, he leapt at the nearest guard, then the next, and the next; completely ignoring their shouts of surprise and fear as easily as he ignored the bullets whistling passed him. Evan the few that managed to hit his fast moving body only halted him for a moment before the bullet was pushed back out and the wound healed with the remarkable metal that ran through his entire body.

Although the wounds were quickly healed, that didn't mean that they didn't hurt, and the more hits he took, the quicker he tired. Damn, they just kept coming too! He was running out of steam dangerously fast. But he figured the others had had enough time to escape; now it was his turn. He tried to retreat, but the guards had come around from behind too; he was completely cut off.

_'Damn,'_ he thought as he cut down three more guards with one stroke, who were quickly replaced by six more, _'Finally some excitement, must be my lucky day.'_

He staggered back a step as one of the guards managed to hit him hard on the back of the head with his gun. In the moment of hesitation it took for Logan to blink and shake his head to clear it the guards were piling on top of him, hitting him repeatedly over the top of the head, trying to push him down into the mud, and succeeding.

But in a flash of lightning, a round, star-spangled disk carved a path through the sea of guards around him. Logan blinked in surprise, but only had a moment to wonder as seconds later another flash of red, white, and blue crossed his vision; Rogers had returned to join the fight.

As a fresh wave of vigor washed over Logan he roared and tossed the guards still clinging to his arms into the mud several feet away, then dispatched several more with his claws.

Rogers fought through the crowd until he stood back to back with Logan. "Not slowing you down, am I?" Captain America asked with a grin.

Logan didn't reply. Instead they continued fighting back to back through the crowd, until at last they broke free and dashed for the exit.

Out in the open rain again they ran until they were well into the trees and safely away from the camp. There they slowed, but only a little, as they knew the guards would soon regroup and be hot on their tails.

However, Logan was unable to keep himself from pausing for just a moment to lean against a tree, breathing heavily.

"Are you hurt?" Rogers asked in concerned, but Logan was saved from answering by the other man's gasp when he noticed the countless bullet holes and rivers of blood staining Logan's uniform.

"I'm fine," Logan said briskly, shoving away from the tree to continue on, but stopped and swayed slightly, he'd lost more blood than he'd realized.

"Wait, stop, what are you doing?" Rogers protested, "You're seriously injured!"

"Look, bub, I'm not like everybody else, my body's special," Logan hissed, "I'm fine." But Rogers looked less than convinced. Logan sighed, "Fine, you want proof?" He quickly unbuttoned his top; revealing his toned, hairy, flawless chest, "See? Not a mark left, all taken care of," he said briskly, already re-buttoning his shirt.

Rogers continued to stare.

"Come on," Logan sighed, exasperated, "They must have told you I was… different, before they sent ya off with me."

"Well, yeah," Rogers admitted, "But I didn't think they meant… like that. Are you part of operation rebirth too?" he asked.

"Of operation what?" Logan replied, his dizzy spell was passing and he was impatient to get going.

"Operation rebirth," Rogers repeated, "I guess not. Then how?"

"Look, bub, I don't know," Logan answered, starting to walk away, "Lets get going, before those Nazis find us."

Rogers followed without another word and Logan hoped that that would be the end of such annoying conversations.

**To Be Continued**


	2. The Wrestling Match

**Hey all, so here's chapter two. Big thanks to 4Rogue and endiahna for reviewing. Enjoy!**

In the next few days, things were pretty quiet. Logan saw Rogers from time to time around the camp, but said nothing to him. But as time went on Logan began to get restless again, he was always looking for adventure, some would say he was addicted to the adrenaline of coming inches from loosing his life, and the more restless he got, the more he thought about his last mission, and who he'd been on it with.

Soon he was thinking about it so much it began to annoy him. Rogers was constantly on his mind. His cocky grin, his swift, easy movements, that ridiculous looking star-spangled spandex getup that fit him so well.

_'Damnit, pull yourself together,'_ he told himself angrily. He told himself that he was just so caught up in it because Rogers was the first man he'd ever met who could keep up with him so easily, at times even surpass him, he hadn't constantly been worrying about how his partner was doing on the mission, if he'd gotten hurt, or capture, he'd known that Rogers would be fine. It was nice to feel that kind of security, he just wasn't used to it.

Finally he was relieved when the sergeant told him that he was to be sent on another mission, and for once he jump when he was told he'd have a partner again.

"This is Private De'baus," the sergeant said, introducing a ratty looking man probably in his early thirties who didn't look to have an ounce of muscle on him.

Logan sighed and immediately began to berate himself for thinking it would be Rogers again, for some reason they never paired him with the same person twice. "Hey," he greeted the other man coolly.

"Good, you leave in the morning," the sergeant said, and left, Private De'baus scurrying after him.

The next morning everyone at the base made a point of staying out of Logan's way, as he had developed a tendency of growling at anyone who met his eyes.

He glared at the, for once, clear morning sky as he stomped his way toward the departure site. He justified the bad mood to himself as the knowledge that this kid would be even worse than usual, and denied the obvious reason of the simple fact that he wasn't Rogers.

When Logan arrived at the meeting place his foul mood was increased as he found that Private De'baus apparently couldn't even be bothered to show up on time.

Logan was just rounding on the fourth minute of his rather long winded, muttered rant about "young people and their terrible punctuality", when he heard a cheery, boisterous voice behind him say, "Sorry I'm late." Logan whirled and was surprised to find Rogers strolling up to him, all geared up.

"Private De'baus fell ill last night," Rogers explained, "So I was elected to fill in. You don't mind do you?"

Logan, too surprised to answer properly, grunted by habit.

"Cheery as always," Rogers observed lightly, a playful grin tugging at the corner of him mouth.

"You're energetic today," Logan observed grumpily.

Rogers just laughed, "Shall we get going then?" he suggested. Logan nodded and they set off.

The next few weeks past in a blur for Logan, the war was picking up and they were sent on missions more and more, some of them even lasting for days at a time. But a few things to stick out from that time, like all the rain, how Rogers tended to sleep in funny positions, just how tiring it was to get shot full of holes practically every day, just how big Rogers' muscles were, how annoying it was to only be able to take a shower about once a week, and just how nice Rogers' ass was, wait, since when had he been noticing things like Rogers' ass?

Logan tried to deny it for a while, but by the time he caught himself rather quite distracted when he accidentally saw Rogers bathing in a stream while they were camped on one of their longer trips, he'd given up trying to convince himself that he felt any other about his almost constant partner these days.

But he didn't say anything. It was just easier not too. Getting involved in things, especially when they were out risking their lives practically every day and everything, it just was too complicated. No, he wouldn't say anything.

That lasted for all of three weeks.

It was a humid evening, Logan and Rogers were lounged, one on each side of their small fire. They were silent, each buried in his own thoughts.

At last Rogers broke the silence with a slight snort, "Do you know, I over heard a rather amusing conversation the other day between a few of the other guys at base."

Logan raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"They were arguing about which of us is stronger, me or you."

Logan snorted himself, "Yeah? What'd they decided?"

"I didn't get a chance to hear," Rogers shrugged.

"Ah," Logan said, leaning back again. Once more there was silence for several minutes.

"You know," Rogers said at length, peering at Logan under his eyebrows, "Why don't we find out for ourselves?"

"Who's stronger?" Logan asked, once again raising his eyebrow, "How do you propose we do that?"

Rogers thought for a moment, "A wrestling match," he decided, "We'll have a wrestling match. The winner is obviously stronger."

"You want to wrestle me?" Logan laughed.

"Yeah," Rogers replied, completely serious.

"OK then," Logan said, humor still in his voice. So they stood, and moved a little away from their campfire, so as not to accidentally fall into it or anything. Then, taking off their boots and shirts, they stood about two feet from each other.

"Ready?" Logan asked, still not quite sure why they were doing this, and more than a little distracted by Rogers' shirtless chest.

"Lets go." And so they began.

Both moved almost too quickly for the human eye to properly see. It started out like any other wrestling match, with each trying to pin his opponent to the ground, but somehow, in the midst of the whirling bodies, their lips met.

Later on neither could say who started the kiss, or how, or when exactly. But one moment the were standing in the middle of the clearing, arms locked, grappling with each other, then the next, Logan found himself pushed up against a tree, Rogers' lips hungrily attacking his.

Neither of them said a word, they didn't have to; each understood the other perfectly. They didn't stop to think either; they simply allowed themselves to be lost in the simple bodily pleasure.

Rogers pushed Logan harder up against the tree, his knee lightly pressuring Logan's manhood. Logan's hands somehow found themselves winding their way down Rogers' back and below the waistline of his pants.

They found the fasteners of each other's pants at the same time, working in perfect harmony to remove the bothersome clothes and release some of the heat that was growing in their bodies.

Once the pants were off Rogers shifted, pushing Logan down onto the ground and climbing on top of him. Their lips never once parted as Rogers slid his member into Logan.

Logan gasped, pushing up on the weight of Rogers' body on top of him. Soon they had a good rhythm going, both moaning in turn as Rogers shoved deeper and deeper. At last he let out into Logan's body.

At length they relaxed, Rogers flipping off of Logan to lie next to him in the damp leaves, both panting heavily.

"So," Logan panted, grinning, "Who won?"

"Hard to tell," Rogers replied.

"Guess we'll have to go for round two then, huh?" Logan grinned, flipping over so that this time he was on top of Rogers.

"Guess-" was all Rogers had time to reply before once again their lips converged.


	3. Sickness

Hey all, here's chapter three. Yay reviews! 

**Enjoy!**

The next several weeks passed by quickly for the new couple. Though not without excitement, those weeks were happy times. And, while to everyone else nothing had changed, Rogers and Logan were still good friends who often were sent on special missions together, but when alone, things between the two were entirely different.

Like every couple, they had their differences, and they argued on more than one occasion, but for the most part they worked together in perfect harmony, each perfectly keeping pace with the other.

And the danger involved in those special missions, though terrifying as the events unfolded, the relief at both making it out alive did nothing to harm Logan and Rogers' relations, or physical activities.

However, one day, the proverbial bombshell dropped on their happy, adventurous lives.

It was a simple enough mission, one that had become routine for the two, break into a prison camp, bust the prisoners out, beat up some guards, get beat up by some guards, escape, and find a quiet thicket in the woods for some private time. But this time, there was a hitch in the plans.

They were nearing the end of the routine, somewhere in between the getting beat up and escaping part, when suddenly Rogers began to cough violently and sagged to his knees. The enemy was on top of him at once, and just as quickly Logan was leaping to his rescue. Logan fought his way through to his lover, and slinging an arm around his shoulders, continued desperately to fight his way back out into the cover of the trees. Rogers helped as best he could, but seemed to be having trouble breathing, let alone walking or fighting.

At length, and with several wounds and quite a bit of blood, most of which Logan made sure came from himself, especially since he was able to heal faster than the average human being, one talent Rogers didn't have, they managed to break through. By this time Rogers spell of sudden weakness seemed almost gone, he was at least able to walk, and even run a bit on his own, however Logan was sure to keep an arm around him just in case.

Once a safe distance from the camp, Logan had to all but order Rogers to stop, at which point the other man leaned back against a tree, breathing heavily, and slowly slid down to sit at its base.

"Rogers?" Logan asked worriedly, bending down in order to be level with his partner.

"I'm alright, Logan," he said quickly, trying to prove it by stand, but that didn't work so well, instead he slid back down, clutching his head as though plagued by a massive headache.

"Right, you're just great," Logan replied sarcastically, "Now come on, where are you hurt?" he demanded, his hands already gently exploring his lover's arms, shoulders, and torso for any sign of injury.

"I'm not," Rogers replied seriously, but Logan of course had to verify that for himself. Once done checking he sat back on his heels frowning.

"What the hell was that back there then?" Logan asked at last, still frowning.

"I don't know," Rogers voice was carefully detached and even, but Logan heard the fear hidden there.

"Well, we can have the doc look at you when we get back to camp," Logan said briskly, as he slid an arm around Rogers' waist and pulled him to his feet.

Later, back at the base, Logan paced impatiently outside of the infirmary door, waiting for Rogers to be done.

Logan had convinced him to go to the doc's for testing, to see if they couldn't figure out what had gone wrong on their last mission.

It felt like it had been hours, and maybe it had, but still Logan paced. At long last Rogers emerged slowly, closing the door behind him. Turning away from the door he refused to meet Logan's eyes, although he knew the other man was there.

"Well?" Logan pressed, as Rogers seemed reluctant to break the silence.

"I… um…" the other man faltered, "Lets go… someplace more private." Logan followed him without another word. It was bad, he could tell, from Rogers' tone, the way he would barely lift his gaze from the floor, the air around him practically oozed of fear, uncertainty, and general not-right-ness.

Once safely in their special glade, Rogers sat down heavily. Logan sat next to him, grabbing his hand.

"What is it?" he asked softly, knowing he wouldn't like the answer, but needing to hear it anyway.

"I'm dying," Rogers whispered after a pause, his voice was so quiet that at first Logan couldn't be sure he'd heard him right.

"What?" he asked, both for clarification, and simply denial of what he knew was true.

"You know how I was a part of Operation: Rebirth, that's how I became… special," Rogers said slowly, still not meeting Logan's eyes, "Apparently there was a glitch, my cells are slowly beginning to break down. According to the doc I only have few months left." His voice was so empty, so hollow; it tore Logan's heart.

"But there's gotta be a cure or… or something," Logan said quickly, he wouldn't accept it, he couldn't.

Rogers shook his head, "Not that we know of. Operation: Rebirth was an experiment; nobody's tried it before. There's nothing they can do."

"No!" Logan growled, standing up and starting to pace, "No! It won't happen, I won't let it!"

"Logan," Rogers whispered quietly, "There's nothing you can do."

Logan's eyes stung and he blinked furiously, his eyes searching about him as though the answer would just spring out of thin air.

"Logan," Rogers said quietly, pleadingly, "I'm scared. I don't want to die."

Logan ceased his pacing and sat back down, wrapping his arms around his lover and they said no more, they just sat there in each other's arms, silently fretting over the future.

"I won't let you die," Logan promised in a whisper so quiet that not even Rogers could hear him, "I won't let you."


	4. I'll Be Waiting

**Hey all, I'm so so so so so so sorry for the long wait, I'm just really spazzy and kept forgetting. So this is the second to last chapter. Please review and Enjoy!**

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Over the next several months, Rogers and Logan tried their best to continue as though nothing was wrong. For the most part everything was fine; it was only when Rogers had one of his spells, which were quickly becoming worse and more frequent, that they were forced to remember the painful truth that their masquerade was trying to hard to hide.

The doctors had promised to try and find a cure, but told them not to hold their breaths. Logan quickly lost count of how many nights he remain sleepless, his mind working frantically to think of something, anything that would save his love.

But soon they were unable to even pretend anymore, as Rogers got sicker and sicker, until finally he was confined to bed rest at all times. Logan came to see him as much as possible, to hold his hand, talk to him, feed him on the days when he was unable to do it himself.

But the war still went on, and Logan still had to go on mission.

One time, he returned from a mission to find that Rogers was now beginning to cough so hard that blood was coming up. According to the doctors he only had a week or two left.

That night they both cried, as Logan lay in Rogers' hospital bed with him, their hands tightly intertwined.

"Logan," Rogers whispered at length, "If… if there was a way to… a way for me to… that they could preserve me until they find a cure, would you wait for me?"

"Of course," Logan answered without hesitation, "But… why do you ask?"

"The… the doctors said that they could sort of… freeze me, I guess," Rogers explained, his speech slow and faltering, "Until they found a cure."

"I would wait until the end of time for you," Logan promised, gently kissing Rogers to seal his promise.

"Really?" Rogers whispered.

"Really," Logan deepened the kiss until Rogers relaxed completely.

"I love you," Rogers said quietly.

"I love you too," Logan answered softly. They then settled down and slowly feel asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

The next morning Rogers told the doctors that he would go through with the freezing. They said that they would do it at nightfall. So Logan and Rogers had one final day together.

They spent that day joking and laughing, talking about anything and everything, but what would happen as soon as the sun sank.

Just as the sky was beginning to turn pink Rogers fell silent, gazing blankly out of the window.

"Logan?" he said quietly.

"Yes?"

"Would you… do something for me, please?" Rogers asked, still gazing out of the window.

"Anything," Logan promised.

"Operation: Rebirth, I want you to destroy it," his voice was quiet, but sure, "I don't want anyone else to go through what I did. Will you do that for me?"

"Of course," Logan said, "What ever you want."

"Thank you." After they remained silent until the doctors came to take Rogers away.

"See you soon," Logan said with a false grin as the doctors wheeled Rogers away.

"Yeah," Rogers smiled back.

In a "super secret" research facility, somewhere in the middle of now where, a lone figure stood in a meticulously clean room. It was dimly lit; the walls were lined with many indefinable laboratory equipment, and in the center stood a large tank-like tube hooked to countless wires.

"So this is it, Operation: Rebirth," he mused to himself. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, he missed Rogers, he missed him a lot. And it was all this damn machine's fault.

With that thought he broke, and with a scream of pure, heartbroken pain his claws erupted from his knuckles and he flew into an irrepressible rage. He stormed through the room, slashing at anything and everything he saw. Throwing, shredding, smashing, breaking, and otherwise destroying the room.

At last he leaned exhaustedly against the fragments of the tank, tears slowly beginning to stream down his face. And slowly, he slid to kneel amidst the rubble, his shoulders hunched as he slowly allowed all of his pain to escape in the form of tiny, salty crystals that slid down his cheeks to splash onto the floor.


	5. Until The End Of Time

**Hey all. So here's the last chapter. Yes, it's the end. It's always so sad to see one of my stories end, especially one I like as much as this one. But here it is. Big thanks to endiahna and Patricia16 for reviewing. Enjoy, and don't forget the review!**

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"_See you soon," Logan said with a false grin as the doctors wheeled Rogers away._

_"Yeah," Rogers smiled back._

_**Nearly sixty years later…**_

A lone motorbike roared down the deserted road that led to the middle of now where. The eyes of man riding that bike were deep set and dark, telling of many hidden secrets and no visible emotions what so ever.

At last he pulled to a stop and climbed off of the bike. He wasn't supposed to be there, but he didn't care. His fingers clenched even more tightly around the small scrap of star-spangled spandex in his hand. He had been waiting sixty years for this, and he would like to see any one try to stop him.

When exactly he had gotten the piece of spandex he didn't know, at some point during the war he'd picked it up, and had treasured it every since, always keeping it with him. It was worn and faded now; unlike the man holding it, it had been affected by the passage of time. But still the red and white strips, the three prongs of a star on a field of blue, were visible, a tired momentum of the past.

But whoever had said that the past was over and gone, although right in many respects, in this case couldn't have been more wrong.

He strolled calmly into the building, looking for all the world as though he owned the place. He passed many people as he went, but none of them dared say anything to the tall, powerful looking man.

At last he found the room. Two doctors were inside.

"He should be waking up any minute," one said.

"You gave him the stabilizer?" questioned the other.

"Of course, when he wakes he should be back to his normal, healthy self," the first replied.

The man stood back against the wall as the doctors left, whether they noticed him or not he didn't know or care.

Once the hallway was empty he slipped into the room. The room was oppressively clean, lined with counters bearing many various objects that the man didn't care to notice or describe. His focus lay in the middle of the room, on a cold, metal operation table.

"Rogers," he whispered huskily, crossing the room to stand over the table, gazing sweetly at the man that lay on it. He hadn't changed at all either.

To any observer it could have been sixty seconds, not sixty years, since the two had been together.

The man gently stroked the other's cheek. Now if only he would hurry up and open his eyes. The room was deathly silent.

Was he waited, the man gently traced his fingers across Rogers' face, through his hair, every feature exactly as he remembered it. There was only one detail that had somehow been lost from his mind over the waves of time, and that was still kept a mystery, veiled behind pale, translucent eyelids.

"Lo… gan?" Rogers whispered, his eyes beginning to flicker.

Logan's own dark orbs, the ones that to this point had managed to hide any hint of emotion, now began to over flow. He felt his heart tremble in his chest and his knees shake as the most beautiful cerulean eyes he had ever seen, clear and bright, blinked up at him.

"Welcome back, Rogers," he whispered. Rogers smiled, his eyes now focused on the heavenly face hovering above his own.

Slowly Logan leaned down; their breath mixing, warm on each other's faces. "I've missed you, bub," Logan said, closing the last few inches of air between them.

The kiss was long, slow and tender, holding in it all the passion that had lain latent for the past sixty years.

At last they broke apart, both smiling through their tears.

"I've waited sixty years for that," Logan whispered. Rogers smiled and Logan kissed him again.

On those two men, time was lost; it didn't exist. They were suspended eternally, free from the restraints of mortality. Each held closely in the other's arms, they didn't care. As long as they had each other they would prevail, and wait until the end of time.


End file.
